Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Nepal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Traffic Nightmare to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Judy Mowatt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
E-Dancer,
The Dirtbombs,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Fraelich,
Alton Ellis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ludus,
kango's stein massive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
Ten City,
Todd Rundgren,
World's Most,
The Velvet Underground,
Soul II Soul,
The Grass Roots,
Ossler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
X-Ray Spex,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Metal Thangz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deakin,
Mission of Burma,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
The Names,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
Alice Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Section 25,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mantronix,
Rufus Thomas,
The Blues Magoos,
Steve Hackett,
Skriet,
Aswad,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Organ,
The Kinks,
Depeche Mode,
Davy DMX,
Banda Bassotti,
Kenny Larkin,
the Bar-Kays,
China Crisis,
Maurizio,
Loose Ends,
Faraquet,
Sugar Minott,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.